


Pre-Show Pick Me Up

by ghostie_withthemostie



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: F/M, Fingerfucking, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Quickies, young rick sanchez
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 21:35:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5886091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostie_withthemostie/pseuds/ghostie_withthemostie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rock stars all have their little things they need to get them ready for a show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pre-Show Pick Me Up

**Author's Note:**

> WELP
> 
> enjoy xoxo

The club was loud, raucous, and smoky. Typical show venue for The Flesh Curtains. This was your fourth show working with the intergalactic punk band and you have been having a pretty good, if not stressful, time so far. You’re only an assistant to the band’s manager…not as if the band accepted much managing. Mostly your boss just booked the gigs and sent you along for damage control. Hence the stress.

Right now you were simply standing backstage, observing the band getting ready for their set.

“Where’s Rick?” You ask the only two present band members, checking your watch. Five to show time.

“Oh, he’s probably around here squanchin’ around. He’ll be on time.” Squanchy responded off-handedly, taking a swig from the brown bag-wrapped bottle in his hand.

You jump when you feel a hand on your shoulder, but it’s just Birdperson reassuring you. “I agree, young assistant. Do not worry. Rick never misses a show.”

You nod and smile, nevertheless taking another quick peek at your wrist. Four minutes. You can hear the crowd outside screaming in anticipation and you feel your blood pressure rise.

Quite suddenly, one of your hands is snatched and you’re yanked backward, your clipboard clattering to the floor. Turning, you see Rick, pupils blown out, a huge manic smile plastered on his face.

“C-C-C’mere I need you for a sec.” He stutters, dragging you into the hallway that leads to the back exit of the club. It’s poorly lit, walls plastered with fliers of shows long past, the scent heavy with cigarette smoke and cheap liquor. Or maybe that was Rick.

“Wh-what are you-“

“Shh, I just need a little something to get me ready for the-the show…” Rick pushes you against the wall, pressing close. Your heart nearly stops before resuming a pace on par with one of Squanchy’s famous drum solos.

“I’m n-not giving you anymore drugs…” You pant as Rick’s wide hands, all guitar calloused fingertips, begin sliding down your sides and over your hips.

Rick snorts. “Like-Like I need you to get me shit. No, no…I need something a little different tonight…”

One of his hands slips under the tight, stretchy fabric of your black skirt. You gasp when a finger presses against your clit through your panties, a firm, sure pressure that makes you tremble against him. He begins circling it, the friction of the fabric amplifying the sensation. You feel yourself becoming heated and wet as Rick watches your face, smiling at your expression.

“What are you…nnn…” You breathe.

“You know exactly what. Shh.” Rick pushes your undergarment aside, sliding a long finger into your ready channel. “Ohh fuck you’re already so wet.”

Your face burns at your too-obvious arousal at his hands. It doesn’t stop your moan, though, when he adds another finger to the first, crooking them both forward and thrusting them in and out rapidly. He knows exactly where to hit with each thrust, digging against the bundle of nerves inside of you that brings you the most pleasure. Against your thigh you feel his leather-covered erection, bumping against you in time with his hand.

“Ohh, fuuuck…” You groan, the tingling of your building orgasm spreading through your limbs.

“Good, good…say my name for me when you cum…” Rick commands, voice low and gravelly. His expression is rapt as he watches you, his fingers picking up speed.

You shut your eyes, letting your release wash over you, a shuddering, blinding heat. “Riiiiick, yesss…” You grip his arms, allowing yourself to fall forward against him, feeling the gush of wetness against his hand from your completion.

Grinding his cock against you once more, Rick chuckles. “Perfect.”

After a few shaky breaths, your current situation comes crashing back around you. Suddenly you’re able to hear the crowd outside, a chanting “Rick! Rick! Rick” filling your ears. Your eyes fly open and you shove him off of you, panicking.

“Ge-Get on stage right now!!” Your voice only shakes a little, unlike your knees, which are twitching and trembling even still.

Rick barks a laugh, reaching down to adjust his erection before leaning forward to give you sloppy, whiskey-flavored kiss. “No problem. Great a-a-assisting.” And he’s off, jogging toward the backstage area briskly.

You hear a surge in the volume of the club, so you assume Rick made his fashionably-late entrance. Taking a shuddering breath, you allow yourself a few moments to collect yourself before heading backstage once again. You try not to think about the unprofessionalism of what had just occurred, just allow yourself to enjoy the looseness of your limbs and the soaking warmth between your thighs. You got him on stage with no major mishaps. Job done.

Picking up your clipboard from where it fell earlier, you move to the wings to watch. Rick is pumping up the crowd, who are shouting and loving it.

“Aaallllright, mother fuuuuuuuckers! Let me tell you about this greeeeeeeaaat pussy I just fuckin’ experienced….” The crowd’s screams spike in volume.

You grip your clipboard to your chest, the blood rushing in your ears. He…he wouldn’t…

“Naaaaah, I’m just kidding. Time for that-for that later. Let’s rock!” Behind him, Squanchy starts a beat on the drums and you breathe a sigh of relief.

Rick turns to look at you from the stage, slipping those two fingers into his mouth and sucking on them with a wink.

_Asshole._


End file.
